Into You
by Anything Goes Twific Contest
Summary: The social outcast and beloved jock are very different people behind closed doors.


**Into You**

 **by:** Bittersweet Escape

 **Summary:** The social outcast and beloved jock are very different people behind closed doors.

 **Pairing:** Bella/Edward

 **Rating:** M

 **Word count** : 5,053

 **Disclaimer:** The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

 **Into You**

You're so cool. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to admit that to you face to face, but you are.

Watching you around school, you just ooze something... _more_. I don't know. It's stupid really, makes me sound like a fan girl, which I'm totally not. You have enough girls hanging off of your balls at school.

Everyone loves you. The star quarterback, dangerous kid that likes to drive fast and drink hard. The untouchable boy that everyone wants to get close to.

But none of that is what makes you cool.

No.

What makes you cool is how you're above it all. Above the drama of high school. Above the girls with too much make up and the boys who live in your shadow. You're past it, and ready to move onto other things. Bigger things. Lets face it, everyone knows you're going to leave this shitty town and do something amazing.

I know it more than anyone, and that makes me sad, because I'll still be here. In this small town, like the rest of the regulars.

I wish I could come with you. Be what's expected of a girl hanging off the arm of Edward Cullen. But I could never compromise myself that way, never be the blonde with glassy eyes and perfect skin. I can only be me, dark haired with black rimmed eyes, ready to smack everyone in the face with my reality.

So I'll hang back, and privately soak up the aura you put out. And while you parade around your perfectly curled hair, flawlessly skinned girlfriend, I'll remain your hidden secret.

Because I'm so lost in your _cool._

. . .

I'm panting, my breath coming out ragged, no doubt from the screaming he had to muffle with your hand. He's not much better though. Breath gone, sweat covered and laying next to me in my bedroom.

"I called you earlier." He says.

"I know. I was working." I wipe the sweat from my face, cringing when black liner smears onto my hand.

"You looked amazing today." He smiles over at me, a hand resting lazily over my stomach.

"You didn't see me today." I roll my eyes.

"Yes, I did." He moves closer. "I was at my locker with Rosalie when you were trying to shove your huge ass bag into your locker."

"Oh." I stiffen at the mention of Rosalie.

"I was seriously up for dragging you to the janitors closet." He laughs, placing a kiss on my neck.

I sit up, moving away from him. "Yeah, well. That would never have happened anyway with Rosalie there."

"Yeah," He sighs, and I'm trying to decipher if its a sad sigh or a longing for his girlfriend type of sigh.

"You should go." I say softly. "My dad gets home in twenty minutes.

He says nothing, but gets up. I watch as he pulls on his jeans, socks and shoes, the muscles in his back flexing deliciously. His shirt comes next, making me smile. It's the ones I bought him a few months back, after he mentioned his love for Nine Inch Nails.

I pull on underwear and my discarded shirt as he walks around my room humming to himself, touching random things strewn around the small area.

"Call you tonight?" He ask, turning to face me.

"Aren't you going to Emmett's party?" I ask.

"Yeah, I'll still call you though." He shrugs. "Unless you're going?"

I scoff. "Resident outcast, remember? Not invited."

"Everyone's invitied. Emmett's cool."

"I'll pass." I fold my arms.

He sighs, but nods because he knows. Instead he pushes me up against the wall and plants his lips on mine, one hand on my hip, the other lingering on my neck.

"Bye, Dark Girl." He whispers before heading out the door, a muted click behind him leaving me alone again.

. . .

Do you remember the night this all started between us? When I picked you up drunk on the side of the road? You were so wasted that night. Usually I'd never stop, but you literally could barely walk.

When you asked me to take the long way home I did, and every drunken question you had I found myself answering. And when I pulled up outside of your house and you kissed me, I let you. I got lost in you.

I remember thinking "He'll regret this tomorrow" But I just couldn't pull away. The taste of cheap beer and mint, and the softness of your lips drowned me in bliss. I've never felt anything like it, and I was content to let it go when you stumbled up to your house, just glad to have had that experience once.

I never expected you to show up at my bedroom window the following night, stone cold sober. You kissed me, and told me you'd spent the day thinking about my lips. You stripped me bare and fucked me on my small twin bed, and I craved every inch of you.

Then when you whispered "We can't tell anyone" I readily agreed. Because I couldn't imagine losing the feeling of that moment.

Now though, its getting more impossible to hold on to. I feel you drifting when your there with me, even though you're completely present, and I know it's jealousy settling in. It's feelings occuring. And I'm so fucking confused, but I just can't stop.

I can't stop, Edward. Can you?

. . .

"Did you bring your Bio homework?" Angela asks.

"No, I forgot." I push around cold mashed potatoes my plate with a fork, ignoring the loud cafeteria.

"Shit. I forgot to do it. I was hoping to get a copy of yours." She sighs.

"Ben?" I guess.

"It's been a busy weekend," She sighs dreamily.

"Hey Bella!" I sigh, not turning as Jessica stanley's voice rings through the air. "Marylin Manson called. He wants his shirt back."

Laughs ensue, Angela rolls her eyes and flips them the bird, her black pointed nails sharp as razors.

I turn and smile sweetly. "That's okay. At least I don't have pig spunk injected into my face to make me flawless. Nice nose job, by the way. Not botched at _all._ "

Jessica, red faced, sits down as Angela howls behind me. From the corner of my eye I see Edward snigger behind his hand. Rosalie smacks him on the shoulder before turning to console her friend whilst glaring my way.

I go back to cold mashed potatoes.

. . .

Being teased is not something that has ever really annoyed or hurt me. If anything, it bored me. In this day and age, you'd think it would be perfectly normal for an individual to be just that. Individual. To have a their own sense of style. But I guess thats small towns for you.

I've always been happy in my dark clothes. Ripped tights and chunky studded boots are like home to me. It's my comfort zone.

Problem is that lately, that comfort is slipping away the more I'm with you. Seeing you, and being around you maes me realise how different we are.

We have the same sense of humour. Movies tastes differ slightly, and your music ranges wide like my own tastes. But on the outside, we're worlds apart from each other. As time goes on, I'm starting to realise I don't want to be apart from you in anyway. You forever tell me how much it turns you on. My dark, short skirts and baggy ripped shirts. The knee high laced boots I wear constantly. Yet, still. I look at you in your designer jeans and shirts and wonder what it'd be like. To live in your world, and be like the girls you are surrounded by.

But I could never lose myself over something so silly as styles and looks.

Yet the thought still plays on my mind.

. . .

"You wanna go somewhere tomorrow?" He asks in a tired voice.

I lean forward on the couch, phone between my shoulder and ear as I paint my toenails midnight blue.

"Your room or mine?" I ask.

"No, I mean out. Like outside."

I pause, nail polish wand mid air.

"We could go to Port Angelas, get some food." He continues. "Or there's this cool little store that does all these wintage collectables we could go to."

"What about your girlfriend?" I try not to sound spiteful.

"She's going to California with her parent's tomorrow for the weekend. I'm all yours." He sounds so pleased.

I try to hide how elated I am. "Um, yeah. Sure. What if we're seen though?"

"We won't be." He answers.

Not what I was hoping for.

"Okay." I go back to painting my nails, and can't even hide how dejected my voice has become.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"Nothing."

"Okay." he sais eventually. "I'll pick you up at noon? We'll go to-Oh, Hi babe."

"Hi." Rosalie's sugar sweet voice echoes in the background, tensing my back straight.

"I didn't know you were coming over." Edward tells her.

"I wanted to see you before I leave." She sounds so fucking whiny, I want to throw up. "Are you busy?"

"What? Oh, no. It's just Jasper. We're-"

I hang up and toss the phone across the room, whilst he makes excuses for his hideaway secret across town.

To his perfect girlfriend.

Whom I hate.

. . .

One of your friends asked me out on a date today. Garrett just randomly asked me in class I wanted to go on a date with him.

He's cute with his pretty blue eyes and dark brown hair. If I was a different person, I'd have said yes. If I'd have been sure it wasn't some kind of prank I may have gave in, went through with it.

But then you walked by with Rose, both of you smiling hand in hand and it was anough to boil me inside out. I turned Garrett down and went to sit in Biology with Angela, silenty stewing inside.

I'm getting tired of being so adrift when I'm not with you.

. . .

"Where are you planning on going after we graduate?" He mumbles as he kisses down my neck.

"Huh?" I hum, my eyes closed and head thrown back as he nips and sucks on the tender skin behind my ear.

"College?" He asks, leaning up to kiss me.

"Seattle." I tell him, hands in his hair.

"You've not tried anywhere else?" He sits up and away from me, on his knees between my legs.

I sit up, flushed and confused. "I've pushed a few applications out to different places, but..."

"I'm probably headed to Chicago. I haven't decided yet." He tells me, his eyes staring around my living room.

"Are you okay?" I ask softly.

"Yeah." He sighs, turning back to me. He pushes me back down onto the couch and flattens himself on top of me. "I'm always okay with you."

. . .

It pisses me off the way your dad treats you. When you told me about how hard he is on you, I don't quite think I'll ever really let that go. I mean, I know he loves you. It's in your voice when you talk about him, the admiration. I get that when I talk about Charlie.

But the way Carlisle pushes you to have this perfect Ivy league image is just ridiculous. I get that he has this whole perfect family image and that he wants what is best for you, but sometimes it's hard to watch you trying to keep everything together. I've seen you crack.

It's why you party hard, and where that bite in your voice comes form after a gruellng day of playing the "awesome jock".

I like it when we're alone and you tell me about your love of soccer. How music is your lifeline and what your going to do when you leave here. When your not under you fathers prying eyes and you can be free.

That's what I want most of you. To be free of the restraints of being so perfect all the time. I see what it does to you and it makes me fall for you a little more each time you open up to me.

. . .

"Watch were your fucking going!" She sneers.

"Bite me, princess." I growl, bending down to pick up the books she just knocked out of my hand.

"No thanks, wouldn't want to get rabies." She smiles. "Shouldn't you be off somewhere worshipping satan?"

"No, I did that last night." I straighten back up, eye to eye with her. "I prayed for him to give you a brain, you fucking fool."

"Bitch." She steps closer, but then Edward's there pushing her away from me.

"Woah." He coaxes. "What's going on?"

"She insulted into me," Rose yells as he drags her away.

But not before I hear him say, "So? When did you ever care what Bella Swan had to say?"

"She's such a freak."

. . .

I can't stand you, and I can't stand her. I wish I could just fucking get over you already, but no. You rarely fuck up and on the rare occasion you do, you come running to fix it. It makes me think you care and it gives me false hope. It makes me so tired.

I'm not sure I'm okay with being a secret anymore.

. . .

"Tell me about you're mom." He asks me randomly one day, sitting at my kitchen table.

"What about her?" I ask, face in the fridge.

"Well, obviously she's not around." He hedges.

"No. She, uh..." I clear my throat, slamming the fridge door closed. "She left when I was five. Haven't heard from her since."

"Shit."

"Yeah. I don't really remember much about her. The day she left I remember Charlie begging her not to go, not to take me away. But she wasn't taking me. She wasn't even trying to. I was sitting on the couch when she just marched out the door. She never said one word to me."

I sit beside Edward, and he strokes my wrist.

"I shouldn't have asked." Edward murmurs, watching his fingers ghost over creamy white flesh.

"It's ok." I shrug. "It doesn't bother me like it used to. I've got my dad and he's enough."

"You've got me too."

I look up, seeing the most sincere green eyes looking right back at me.

And I believe him entirely.

. . .

I don't think I'm in love with you anymore. I know it.

The feeling rootes deep in my belly, aching and churning to burst free towards you. I grow more and more attatched to you by the day and even though the rational side of my brain tells me this won't end well, I just can't help it.

I just don't know how I've managed to fall in love with a boy so unavailable.

. . .

"I've got a half hour." He pants into me neck.

"Good," I nod, my hand on his belt as he pulls us towards his bed.

He sits and I straddle him, grinding on where it feels so good. He groans, hands on my ass as he pushes me down harder. I detatch my lips from his neck to pull his shirt off and he does the same to me, taking my bra with it. Leaning down he sucks a nipple into his mouth and I hiss, rotating my hips.

"Baby," He whispers against my skin.

My eyes fall closed with the sweetest kind of joy.

It's shattered moments later.

The front door slamming is like ice cold water being thrown over us. I jump up and away from Edward as he scrambles to find his shirt. Throwing mine at me, he rushes me to the closet. He kisses me and throws the door closed just in time as his bedroom door opens.

"Honey, it's a mess in here."

His mom. I sigh quietly.

"I'll clean it later." His voice is smooth. No trace of a lie.

"I just came back to pick up my folders for the Newtons project. I'm probably not going to make it home for dinner tonight." She sounds honestly sad.

"That's okay. I've got plans, anyway." Edward tells her.

"Rose?" I can hear the smile in her voice.

"Yeah." He says, after a half a second of pause.

"I really like her. She seems like a sweet girl."

"She is."

I want to vomit.

"Have you picked up your suit for the prom?" She asks.

"Uh..." He hesitates, and I push my ear against the door. "Not yet. She hasn't picked her dress and she wants to co-ordinate colours."

My eyes fall closed. Of course he's taking her to the prom. Then we'll gradute, and they'll leave for college together. They'll have a successful relationship in the eyes of his parents, complete with a gold wedding bands and perfect children. And I'll be here, alone again.

What the fuck was I thinking getting into this?

"Okay, well...Um...Edward?" She stops.

"Shit." Edward breathes out.

"Maybe next time make sure Rose has her bra before she leaves?"

My breath stops, my face burning.

"I will. Sorry mom."

I hear her chuckle as she leaves, the sound of her heels clacking down the hardwood flooring. Edward closes the door and rushes to open the closet.

"Shit, I'm so sorry. I didn't think she'd be back." He apologises, as I step out of the closet.

"It's okay." I say quietly, taking my bra from his hands.

"My fucking hearts racing." He laughs breathlessyly.

I don't.

"Hey, its okay." He hugs me from behind. "She didn't suspect a thing."

"I said it's okay." I snap, pulling away from him.

"Woah," He holds his hands up. "What the fuck just happened here?"

"I don't want to do this anymore." I whisper.

Half a beat of silence then a soft, "What?"

I take a breath and turn to face him. "What am I to you?"

"You're Bella." He sais, like its obvious.

"And what will I be when you leave for college." He doesn't answer, so I continue. "What will I be when you and Rose eventually get married, and buy a house. When you have babies together. What happens then?"

"Where's this shit coming from?" He asks, irritation lacing his voice. "You were fine five minutes ago."

"I've been thinking this for a while." I tell him.

"And what, because my mother walks in you decide we're breaking up?" He runs a hand through his hair.

"We're not together though, are we?" My voice rises. "I'm just you're piece on the side."

"Don't you fucking dare," He cuts himself off mid yell, lowering his voice to a tense murmur. "I've never treated you like that. You know thats not what you are."

"Then what am I? What am I to you?"

"I _don't know_ , okay?" He shouts at me. "I don't know what you are to me."

He starts pacing in front of me, as I watch him.

"Break up with her." I voice, small and hopeful.

He looks at me like I've gone insane. "You're not serious."

"Why wouldn't I be serious?" I throw my hands out, palms in the air."We've been at this for over a year now. I know more about you than anyone, and I've told you the deepest parts of myself. Why wouldn't I be thinking this?"

"Because its fucking crazy." He laughs incredulously.

"Oh yeah, so crazy. Crazy that big high school star Edward Cullen would be seen with Bella Swan, Cemetery girl." I throw out sarcastically.

"Don't talk bullshit. I've never once said anything about how you look. What you wear doesn't matter to me." He shakes his head at me, looking lost.

"Then why won't you just be with me!" I yell.

"Because you know I can't. You fucking know it!" He shouts back at me, punching his hand off the closet door, banging it closed. "I have a reputation to uphold."

"And that reputation is more important than this? Than me?" I say the last part so quiet.

He shakes his head, his eyes torn but no words come from his mouth.

My insides crumble.

I nod, and look away from him so he won't see my watery eyes.

"Baby, I'm sorry." He comes towards me, but I hold up a hand and back away. "You know what I mean. You're important to me. Of course you are."

"Don't," I croak out. "Don't even bother. This is done."

He stops, I keep going. Out the door and down the stairs. I think he calls my name but I can't be sure over the roar of blood rushing through my body.

Cold air on my face, I launch myself from his driveway and start running, even though it feels likes I've no air in my lungs.

. . .

You leave voicemails. There most be at least two dozen by now.

"Sorry" and "Don't do this." You call me a fucking coward for not sticking it out with you, your voice slurred and low, but in the next breath you beg to see me again. I torture myself listening to them, if only to keep the memory of us close.

Time moves on though.

You've been walking around in a daze. I've noticed, because I can't take my eyes off of you. I'm a masochistic in that sense. It hurts, but its more painful when I don't see you.

It's been six weeks, the longest we've been apart in the fourteen months since we started this affair. I hate that word.

Affair.

Like we were doing something wrong. Which we were, I suppose but in my heart you were more mine than hers. I guess I was wrong there.

In the weeks that followed me leaving your room, I took Garrett up on his offer and went out on a date with him. I know he told you all about the freak in the ripped fishnet tights. It doesn't matter, because I regretted every minute of it, and when I got home I fell asleep with tears in my eyes reading the pleading text's you'd been sending me.

After that night with Garrett though, the texts stopped and Garrett would snicker with the rest of your crowd when he walked by. You never looked in my direction again.

It's painful, and I miss you so much I feel like I can barely breathe.

But I guess we're back where we belong, on opposite sides of the world. The Popular Jock and the lonely Goth.

. . .

"Did you have anyone over today?" My dad ask from the table.

"No, why?" I ask, watching the casserole in the oven.

"I found this down the side of the couch." He pulls out a lighter, a small metallic blue zippo.

Edward's lighter.

I swallow hard, then reach out for it. "Oh, thats Angela's. She was here a few days ago."

"You know how I feel about smoking in my house, Bella." He warns, picking up his discarded newspaper.

"She didn't smoke in the house." I sigh, running my hands over the cold blue metal. "She just lost this here."

"Mhmm." Dad mumbles, his focus back on his paper.

I don't mind his chastising though. With him always being on call, its actually nice when he's home.

The house isn't as quiet.

. . .

Angela was over yesterday showing me the pictures she took at the prom. Of course, Angela likes to stand out. Dressed all in black, they were the source of the stares and snide sniggering. That's what she tells me, and in a way I'm glad I didn't attend.

That is, until she shows me the picture she posed in with you.

She told me you were nice to her. You complimented her outfit, and spoke with her about random shit. She said your friends were appalled, but you didn't seem to give s shit.

She said you told her, "Say hi to Bella for me."

I broke down crying, and now Angela knows everything.

You looked so handsome in your tux, if not a little sad. You're so handsome with your arm tucked around my best friend, that it actually panged jealousy back from the deep pits of my soul.

I hurt for you. I miss you.

. . .

"Did you hear?" Ben's breathless, dropping down into the grass beside us.

Ang just raises one perfectly black brow.

"Rosalie Hale is inside having a meltdown." He points towards the school. "Like, screaming and crying in at her locker."

I stick to biting large chunks of my apple, the sweet fruit clogging un my throat.

Angela snorts. "What, did she break a nail?"

"Nah, Edward ditched her ass." Ben chuckles.

My apple falls to the grass, forgotten. I stare towards the school as Angela stares at me, wide eyed.

"Apparently he got sick of her shit, doesn't want her hanging on him when he goes off to college or something." Ben shrugs, digging through his bag for lunch.

"Ben, could you go grab me a soda?" Ang asks him.

"I just got here." He huffs, but relents when she gives him a pout.

As soon as he's out of earshot, she pounces.

"Why are you still sitting here?" She asks, waving her hand towards the school. "Go! Go get him, dude."

"No," I shake my head. "I can't."

"Bullshit."

"It's been two months, Angela." I shake my head. "He hasn't called me in two months."

"Maybe he wanted to." She hedges. "What if he did it for you? Broke up with her to be with you?"

"Then he'd be here," I snap. "He'd be out here, right now. Or he'd call. But he hasn't. He didn't do this for me, okay? He did this for himself."

"Okay." She mumbles.

"Sorry," I sigh. "Look, it's fine. He did the right thing. He wanted to go off and be different from who he is now. Maybe, this is the start of that for him."

"Do you still love him?" Angela asks softly.

 _Yes._ "I just want him to be happy. Now he can be."

. . .

I was packing up the last of my bedroom today, and now it's so so bare. The bed we lay on, touching, talking, fucking, is now devoid of it's usual purple sheets. The little drawings and notes you hung up on my picture board are packed away in a box. A hoodie you left here is in my one of my suitcases.

The only evidence to prove you were ever in this small room with me, is the small blue lighter sitting on my nightstand. I've had it for a few weeks now, and comtemplated keeping it. This small, insignificant part of you. But I'll just give it to Angela to pass along to you.

I don't need a lighter. You're memory is locked in my heart.

. . .

I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to find Edward standing nervously behind me.

Heart stoppingly beautiful, even with the ugly yellow graduation robe we're both wearing. His green eyes are boring down on me, sucking all the breath from my body. He looks nervous.

"Happy graduation." He nods.

"Yeah, you too." I say, awkwardly.

"Where's your dad?" He asks.

I point behind me, to where Charlie is talking to Mr Newton with the biggest smile on his face. "Flaunting me out one last time before I leave."

Edward laughs lightly, and I smile for the first time in weeks.

"Where are your parent's?" I ask.

"Over there," He points to his dad. "Mom went to talk to Mr Banner, and dad's sulking."

"Why ? You just graduated, shouldn't he be proud?" I frown.

"Yeah, well." He shrugs. "I told him last night where I'm gonna go to study."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, I uh..." He smirks. "I got a scholarship to study music at Juilliard."

"What?" I nearly yell. "Shut the fuck up. Are you serious?"

"Yeah, they sent my acceptance letter a few weeks ago." He tells me bashfully, but the smiirk is still in place.

"Holy shit." I laugh breathlessly. "Edward, that's amazing. Really."

"Thanks." He nods. "So you're headed to...?"

"Seattle, yeah." I shrug. "Going into psychology."

"Wow, that's cool."

"Yep." I purse my lips, looking around. Rosalie Hale is glaring at us from across the gym.

"Can we talk, later?" Edward asks quietly, eyes downcast.

"I...I'm leaving. After this, we're headed to the airport." I whisper.

" _Shit_." Edward looks up. "Seriously?"

I nod.

"Fuck. But I-"

"Bells, you ready to go?" Charlie calls and I wave a hand toward him, my heart in my throat.

"What were you going to say?" I ask Edward, who's now glaring at the ground.

"Nothing, I just..."

"What?" I step closer. "Tell me."

He shakes his head, and then I'm in his arms. He hugs me so tight with one arm around my waist, the other buried in my hair. I breathe him in, my hand gripping him at the waist.

"Be happy, Bella. Okay? No matter what?" He whispers into my neck, placing a small kiss there.

"I will." I tell him shakily.

Then the warmth of his body dissappears, and I'm watching his back as he marches away from me.

. . .

I was supposed to leave ten minutes ago. Charlie's waiting for me by the car but I darted into the girls bathroom just so I could write this.

Edward, what was once my journal has become a chronicle of our relationship. A personal book dedicated to you. It has all of my thoughts and feelings written on these lined pages. Everything I felt I couldn't say to you is in here. If you've ever wondered what was going through my head, this is it. It's all in here. You'll find out how much you really mean to me.

I saw you're drivers side window was opened just a small sliver. So, I'll slip this journal inside and hope you find it. I'll hold onto the hope that this could be a new start for us. Maybe you'll come back to me, maybe not. But I hope you'll be happy, too. Wherever you go, and whatever you choose to do after reading this. I hope you find the life and love you so deserve. And never lose that aura of cool you have, because that's a true part of who you are.

Love, Bella.


End file.
